A chance encounter with tragedy was merciless.

As Amelia stepped out of the general store, she replayed the information she’d just heard in her mind. Yet, only one sentence seemed to echo relentlessly.

There’s a war in Brienne.

There’s a war in Brienne.

In Brienne…

“Lady Amelia, my lady,”

Betty gently clasped Amelia’s shoulders, as though handling a fragile piece of porcelain.

“You need to collect yourself.”

“…”

“We don’t know anything for certain yet.”

Amelia’s pale, unfocused eyes turned toward Betty.

“When war comes, soldiers storm in.”

Despite urging her to steady herself, Betty began to utter strange, seemingly disconnected words.

“When I was little, there was a small skirmish in Olstein too. I can’t recall who attacked whom, but I remember it happening.”

“…”

“Armies usually camp near the places they aim to invade. They assess the enemy’s situation before engaging in battle. I’ve never been to Brienne, but I imagine it’s the same there.”

For once, Betty rambled on at length. Listening to her babbling—disjointed yet coherent—Amelia slowly began to grasp Betty’s intention.

The story from the shopkeeper was simply this: “Kut’s fleet is in Brienne’s waters.”

If an actual battle were raging, it would be impossible for Kut’s warships to be idly drifting on the sea. They would have docked at the harbor or engaged in a naval fight with Brienne’s fleet.

What trade ships coming into Olstein had described a week ago was merely a prelude to hostilities.

Whether war had truly begun remained uncertain. Betty’s advice was to hold onto that thread of doubt and steady her mind to investigate further.

“…You’re right.”

As Amelia began regaining her composure, her lips trembled.

“…Let’s head to the castle. We need to go back.”

“Yes, my lady,” Betty nodded. Amelia clutched her broken parasol tightly and began making her way out of the marketplace.

***

The interior of the carriage was cool and dry. Amelia inhaled deeply. The sun-scorched smell of parched earth seemed to seep into her lungs, making her throat feel coarse. She swallowed hard against the dryness.

“Hurry, please!”

Betty leaned out of the window, shouting to the coachman. The carriage jolted violently as the horses quickened their pace.

“Stop this at once!”

“Let me through, I’m begging you!”

Voices from outside made Amelia instinctively turn her head. The carriage was nearing the castle’s eastern gate, its destination set for the crown princess’s mansion. There, someone was locked in an argument with the guards.

Amelia’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Wait! Stop the carriage!”

Her voice was urgent, almost a cry. Startled, the horses quickly halted their advance on the cobbled road.

Amelia flung the carriage door open, paying no mind to decorum. She was nearly leaping out before the footboard was in place.

“My lady, you’ll fall!”

Betty grabbed Amelia’s arm just in time. Flustered, the coachman hurried to position the steps properly. Amelia, ignoring all of it, hurried toward the gate.

“Commander Marco!”

Her voice cut through the commotion. The man, poised to argue further with the guards, turned his head.

“…Lady Amelia!”

His expression was a mixture of shock and relief. Seeing him, Amelia abandoned all decorum, rushing toward him as her hair came loose in the wind.

“L-Lady!”

The startled guards stepped back.

“Commander, is it true? Has a war broken out in Brienne?”

Amelia blurted out her question as she reached him, hoping for denial.

Hoping he had come to tell her she could finally return to Brienne.

But instead…

“…”

Commander Marco’s face darkened as though drained of blood.

***

The central courtyard was baked under the relentless sun. Amelia and Commander Marco sought refuge in the sparse shade beneath a solitary watchtower.

“…I am deeply ashamed, my lady,” Marco said, bowing low.

Amelia offered a bitter smile.

“If anyone should feel ashamed, it’s me. I’ve left you to stand in a place like this.”

The guards, stationed at the gate, had no choice but to be wary of a knight commander from Brienne who had arrived unannounced.

It might have gone smoother if Marco had claimed to be an envoy. Instead, his honesty in identifying himself had led to a tense interrogation about his purpose for being there.

By the time Amelia arrived, a heated exchange had already unfolded. Only her intervention had allowed Marco inside the castle.

However, finding a private space to converse posed another challenge. Amelia hesitated to take him to the crown princess’s mansion, fearing that Helen might overreact upon seeing him.

“Betty, please tell Helen that I’ve gone to meet Dana.”

If Marco had managed to leave Brienne to come all this way, it likely meant the fighting had not yet fully erupted. However, it also meant he hadn’t come bearing good news. Amelia didn’t want Helen to overhear such matters.

Resolving to keep Helen unaware, Amelia instructed Betty to deliver the excuse, and Betty hurried off to the mansion.

Now, Amelia and Marco found themselves here, in this unremarkable spot, avoiding both Helen and the other nobles of the castle.

Standing amidst the fortress-like grandeur of the castle grounds, Amelia felt a heavy weight settle on her chest. This vast estate had room for so many, yet the only place she was truly permitted was a single mansion.

“I’m sorry, Commander.”

“No need to apologize. I wouldn’t want to share this with the head maid either.”

Commander Marco’s face bore clear signs of exhaustion, likely from the urgent ride to deliver the news. At the same time, his desperation was apparent, as though he would discuss this matter anywhere, as long as he could.

“My Lady. The Kingdom of Kut has declared war.”

“…I see.”

Amelia tried her best to steady her voice, suppressing the tremor.

“There was an incident not long ago.”

The story Marco recounted was nothing short of a series of calamities.

A Kut navigator had killed Imperial soldiers at a shipyard constructing vessels for Olstein, and Henrik had taken the navigator away, his whereabouts now unknown. Using this as a pretext, Kut burned the shipyard and declared war.

“…”

“Kut is demanding an explanation from the Empire,” Marco continued.

“No matter how much the Duke apologized or how deeply I bowed, it was useless. They insist on one condition: either return the navigator or secure an apology from the Empire.”

“Is that why you’ve come here?”

In response to Amelia’s question, Marco shook his head.

“About a week ago, I sent an urgent letter to His Highness, detailing Brienne’s predicament.”

“And?”

“He rejected it outright.”

“…Why would he do that?”

The commander, who had been speaking rapidly, hesitated at her question, his face shadowed with unease. Amelia, unaware of the reasons behind this rejection, quietly waited for Marco’s response.

“My Lady.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t misunderstand what I am about to say.”

“…What do you mean?”

Josef had changed his mind.

Or perhaps he had scoffed at Brienne’s plight.

Amelia expected an explanation along those lines—but the truth was far heavier.

“…Brienne once inflated its budget for the construction of battleships and reported it to the Empire.”

“…”

“His Highness knew of this.”

Marco’s words were a shocking revelation.

“He replied that he could not assist traitors.”

All the color drained from her face. Seeing this, Marco quickly added, “His Grace, the Duke, did not misuse those funds for personal gain. Though I cannot elaborate, it was done for Kut’s…”

“Commander, that’s enough,” Amelia interrupted.

“That… has nothing to do with me returning to Brienne, does it?”

“…”

“Nor with Brienne’s independence?”

Her question sought to confirm her suspicions. The commander’s veiled explanation bore an uncanny resemblance to the cryptic manner in which Madame Verny had spoken during the auction.

“Brienne is preparing for independence.”

The auction where her father sold Kut’s diamonds for 40,000 gold.

And the embezzlement.

Those funds were likely meant to finance Brienne’s preparations for independence.

The commander remained silent for a moment. He wiped the dust from his face and looked at Amelia before offering a bitter smile.

“…There’s no point in hiding it from you.”

His confirmation was an acknowledgment of everything—her father’s embezzlement of Olstein’s funds, Josef’s longstanding suspicions being accurate, and the unavoidable reason her father acted that way. Once again, Amelia was at the center of it all.

It was a confirmation of every curse.

“Brienne has no more support left, My Lady,” Marco said sorrowfully. “I came here knowing His Highness would refuse to grant an audience…”

“I’ll go.”

Amelia spoke in a low voice.

“I’ll meet him myself.”

“My Lady.”

“Brienne is in a state of war, correct? Then you shouldn’t be here.”

Marco, about to object, was silenced by Amelia’s determined gaze.

“No matter how long it takes—hours, days—I’ll meet His Highness and get an answer. Commander, you must return to Brienne.”

“I cannot allow that.”

Marco shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be right to leave such a significant matter solely to you, My Lady.”

“But there’s no other way, Commander.”

Amelia grasped the commander’s rough, calloused hand, hardened by years of service.

“I have time to wait and request an audience, but you do not. Leave this to me, and go back to Brienne to protect my father.”

“…”

“This is my responsibility as well.”

As she felt the strength in the commander’s hand tighten, she offered a faint smile.

“I will negotiate for Brienne. Trust me, Commander. This is my order as the Lady of Brienne.”

***

Their farewell was as awkward as their meeting. Amelia deliberately walked ahead, staring forward to avoid meeting Marco’s gaze, knowing he would look back at her several times.

The changing scenery confirmed she was moving, but her feet felt numb. The reality she had to face and act upon felt distant, as though she were floating above it all, weighed down by despair trying to pull her into the earth’s depths.

She passed the uneven, weathered walls and entered the gardens, as she always did. But this time, she headed straight for Josef’s study, bypassing the Crown Princess’s quarters.

Her unsteady steps, perhaps hindered by her turbulent thoughts, faltered repeatedly. She feared Helen might step outside, ask what had happened with a smile, and further unsettle her.

By the time she became aware of herself, she was running, tears streaming down her face.

“Your Highness…”

“My Lady?”

Amelia arrived at the small palace’s doors, startling a guard with her tear-streaked face.

“Please… let me see His Highness.”

“Yes—yes, of course.”

Flustered, the guard hastily opened the door.

Amelia entered the first floor without hesitation. Though she had visited this place many times, she suddenly couldn’t remember where the study was. She wandered the halls like a ghost before rushing upstairs, her body leading her to fling open a door.

“Your Highness.”

“…”

Josef greeted her with a calm expression.